


A New Chapter

by backyardgrave



Category: Time Bandits (1981)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backyardgrave/pseuds/backyardgrave
Summary: Kevin is left with nothing. Nothing, save for a stack of polaroids.(Takes place directly following the end of Time Bandits (1981))
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	A New Chapter

Kevin didn’t know how long he had been standing in place. Time seemed to have stopped as his field of view hung on the strange pattern of smoke that was issuing from- no... retreating into? the ground where his parents had been. It took a herculean effort to unfix his gaze, which then traveled helplessly to the much larger issuing of smoke that was still curling away from his house. Or rather, what was left of his house; still standing, but devastatingly charred, a sore spectacle on an otherwise quaint vista of middle-class perfection. He felt like he should feel something. He couldn’t figure out what it should be.

\--

He was still thinking about what he should be feeling when he was suddenly aware that it was dark. He found himself folded up on his bed, burnt husk of a microwave at his feet, a burnt husk of his bedroom all around him. A stack of polaroids in his hand. He put the polaroids down, and went to pry open the door of the microwave. It was still in there. He shut it and pulled further back into himself, drawing his knees up to his chest. After a long time of staring at nothing, he picks up the polaroids again.

\--

It took an even longer time before Kevin realized what he was looking at. He had been drawn to the faces, a happier moment. A victory. A time of limitless possibility. But then he looks down, down to their hands, and he notices it. He grabs his torch from his bag. Then an old magnifying glass, out of an ash-covered drawer. After a long stall, time seemed to come back to him. His mind began to turn.

\--

It was still dark. He was still looking at the picture. He had put it down for awhile, he had picked it up again. Put it down. But now he was looking at it again. It was the last thing he had. What would he do in the morning?

His cabinet door creaked.

In a flash, Kevin swung the torch beam to the scorched surface, covered in remnants of his drawings, reduced to nothing but kindling. It door was still. He must have been imagining things. Hoping. He moved the beam away.

The door opened. Kevin felt the first emotion he could name: Elation.

“ _Randall!_ ”

After that came relief.

“Hiya, Kev!”

“Fidget! Vermin, Strutter- everyone- you’re back-”

Grief.

“I thought you were gone forever,”

Fear.

“or… or just in my head…”

Anger.

“How could you leave me, with… With…”

He kicks the microwave.

“With _this_!”

Most of the gang had filed out of the closet by now, each wearing matching uncomfortable-looking grey suits and displaying an array of expressions, from excited, concerned, nervous, fond, vacant, and on Randall: guilt. He twists his hands together, eyeing the piece of Evil that could be seen through the burnt microwave door.

“Ah, well, that’s why we’re here see, to uh, pick up our little _mistake_ -”

“It killed my parents!”

“Real sorry about that, Kev, dangerous stuff you know-”

“Dangerous! It burnt my house down! It left me with nothing! No one!”

Suddenly all the emotions were a lot clearer now. And they were all coming out at once. A part of Kevin seemed to be watching his outburst from behind his eyes, not entirely believing any of it was happening, or why he was so upset. The rest of him started to whimper.

“Please- I-I've got nothing left. My house, my parents…”

This, at last, seemed to give Randall pause. He had never seen Kevin this upset before, and his own empathy took him by surprise. He struggled to get a handle on his sense of self-preservation.

“Look, Kevin, I’m-... We’re sorry, but we’ve got to get this back up to the boss, he’s mad enough as it is that we-”

Kevin’s heart starts- this was his chance. He sputters, scrambling for something at his sides, pulse racing.

"No- _wait!_ You don't have to go back! Look!"

Kevin thrusts his arm out, displaying a stack of polaroids. Randall doesn't look impressed.

"Don't have to-- Kevin don't be daft, what else are we supposed to do-"

"Just _look_!"

Kevin insists, pushing the stack at Randall, who takes them with reluctant incredulity. A couple of the others move in to peer over his shoulders, and after a quick glance at Kevin, Randall pulls his monocle up to study the topmost photo. He tilts it around, trying to catch a bit of the moonlight in the otherwise blackened room.

"What is it Randall?"

"...It's the lot of us, holding the map."

The map.

"... _The map!_"

Randall lurches forward, pulling the polaroid within inches of his nose.

"Gimme that torch!"

After a bit of fumbling, Strutter manages to hold the light aloft and illuminate the details of the snapshot, revealing a miniature but otherwise functional replica of the fabric of the universe.

"This is.... This is _fantastic!"_

"Yeah, great picture Kevin."

"S' a good one of you, Wally, still is."

"No you fools, don't you see? It's all here! The map! It’s all _here!_ "

Wally, seeing where this is going, heads Randall's excitement off with a warning tone:

"...I don't know, Randall. Do you really want to go through all that again?"

Fidget echoes his sentiments,

"Yeah, we're lucky to have gotten our jobs back after all the trouble we caused."

Randall bites back undeterred.

"No, no! Don't you _get_ it? The supreme being was only after us because we stole-- _borrowed_ , His map. With this, we don't need the bloody map, the undergrowth department, or his blasted 19% pay cut!"

A murmur of commiseratory resentment ripples through the former bandits. It seems like none had been content with the new arrangement, and the possibility of an out was starting to take hold in the minds of the group. Randall continues, enthusiasm mounting:

"With Evil gone and cleaned up-- Well, mostly." He gestures to the sorry looking microwave. "And the supreme being none the wiser.... The universe is ours for the taking! Kevin, you're a _genius_!"

As the polaroid gets grabbed from one hand to the next, Kevin cuts into the crowd with a nervous edge, yanking the picture out of Og's grip ("Hey!") and pulling it tight against his chest. A trail of greedy hands follow, but Kevin backs onto his charred bed defensively.

"But- But you can't have it, unless you promise me!"

Randall puts up an arm to hold back the fuss behind him, a flash of concern giving way to distrust as he straightens his posture to size up Kevin before he speaks. "...Promise you what?"

"...You have to take me with you." Kevin's look is firm, pleading. Hoping.

"... _Take you with us?"_ Randall repeats dismissively, sending a wry look back at his party. "You? A _human_?"

Glances are exchanged behind Randall's back as he lets the rhetorical hang in the air.

Kevin looks distraught, opening his mouth for a rebuttal that never comes, because in a moment Randall has strutted over to take Kevin by both arms, bracing him jauntily.

"...What would we do without you? _You're one of us, Kevin!"_

The proclamation brings up a roar of cheer.

"Yeah, one of us!" "Let's hear it for Kevin!" “ _Stinkin Kevin!_ "

“This is it, lads! _**We’re back in business**!_”


End file.
